don't shoot the messenger (bag)

Earlier in the week I bought a new �messenger bag� which, to the uninitiated, means �purse,� in man speak. It is mustard, or beige, or khaki, or some sort of �high brown.� I cannot see color and am too lazy to pick up my camera so your guess is as good as mine. It is from the Eddie Bauer �Cascade� collection. I needed a �messenger bag� that could handle fourteen inches, because when you pack around an iBook with you every place you can, you need a good bag. I also needed a bag that carried other things.

Imagine my horror when today, I check my mail, and discover a coupon for a free messenger bag from Men�s Express.

I date women, I swear to God I do.

I have a weakness for �messenger bags,� and for things that are, �free.� There is a catch, there always is. I have to buy fifty dollars worth of argyle. Argyle is my kryptonite. The first grade teacher snarked today that I had worn a solid colored sweater, even I was amazed that I owned it.

Messenger bag, free, argyle. I guess I have something to do tomorrow morning after all.

I should be on the radio so I could offend a larger audience. I could start the show by going on and on about nothing in particular (like I do here), in the second hour Kipp and I would comment about the news and current events (occasionally my sister could appear and debate us on the issues, but it would just dissolve into an entertaining rant/counter rant where things were thrown and fowl language was exchanged and cleverly paired) in the third and final hour we would respond, cruelly, to our mail and callers.

It would have to start around three, way passed the crack of noon when we wake up. Even if I am �up� and moving around, I am really just on autopilot.